Free Heirs of the Body by Carola Dunn Page B

a moth, a Brimstone moth. More colourful than most, a vivid yellow.”
    “Edgar, do let Daisy sit down and have her tea. Are you going to join us?”
    “Tea? Is it teatime? Not now, my dear, thank you. I must see this little fellow settled in his case first. He’s quite large and may be almost ready to pupate. You see, if he—”
    “I’m sure Daisy will excuse you, dear,” Geraldine said firmly.
    “My dear Daisy, how kind of you to pay us a visit. We’re always happy to see you, you know.” Retrieving his jar, he patted her on the shoulder and trotted out.
    “The White Knight,” said Daisy. “Oh, sorry, it just slipped out. I didn’t mean it unkindly. Cousin Edgar’s such a sweetie.”
    “I know exactly what you mean,” said Geraldine with fond exasperation, handing over a cup of tea and waving at the selection of edibles on the tea table. “Believe it or not, he was a good teacher and very competent with the boys. But you understand why I’ve taken it upon myself to deal with this business of finding his heir.”
    “Absolutely. And I’m perfectly willing to … um … stand in for him in London, to the best of my ability. I’m not sure what I can do here, though, as Raymond has already refused to accept my ‘credentials,’ so to speak.” She bit into a watercress sandwich. The cress was crisp and green, quite unlike the limp, yellowish substance sold by that name at the greengrocer’s in Hampstead.
    “He can hardly ban you from any room here into which I invite you, even if he is a millionaire!”
    “A millionaire? Is he? Tommy told me only that he’s a businessman in the diamond trade.”
    “Mr. Pearson’s last letter said he’d been making enquiries. All the diamond people know all about each other, it seems. Mr. Raymond Dalrymple is an extremely wealthy magnate.”
    “If he’s filthy rich, it explains his expecting to have it all his own way.”
    “The truth is, I have no idea how to handle the man. I get on comfortably enough with the local gentry—I’ve been a viscountess long enough to learn how, though sometimes it still seems like a dream. I have no ambition to scale the heights of London society.”
    “I don’t blame you!”
    “And I can handle a large staff with a degree of success; that is to say, the servants are not constantly leaving for greener pastures.”
    “I noticed you still have Ernest. Footmen are hard to keep, or so I’ve heard.”
    Geraldine flushed. “I confess I have a soft spot for Ernest, though I trust he’s unaware of it. He hasn’t the sedate temperament of the ideal footman, but he reminds me of the boys at school.”
    “Do you miss them?”
    “Not the school, but the best of the boys. And their liveliness. You might not think it, but I got on well enough with most of them, and with their parents when they visited. They were mostly professional people and successful business people. No millionaires, though! I have no experience with millionaires.”
    “You’re forgetting Mr. Arbuckle, Geraldine. The American whose daughter was kidnapped? He was charming when he wasn’t worried half to death.”
    “You got on well with him, I remember. I didn’t see much of him. And I daresay the Americans are quite unlike the South Africans in character. You’re at ease with everyone, without even trying. I don’t know how you do it.”
    “I don’t exactly do it. It just happens. And not absolutely everyone. I must admit I’m a bit fed up with Cousin Raymond—assuming he’s really a cousin—before I’ve even met him. But who knows, perhaps he’ll turn out to be charming in person.”
    “Perhaps. More likely he won’t care to take tea with a couple of women.”
    “Won’t Edgar join us?”
    “Who knows? I never venture to predict or dictate Edgar’s movements. After twenty years ruled by bells, from rising to lights-out, he deserves his freedom.”
    Politely agreeing, Daisy privately wondered whether it might be more a matter of Geraldine